


Mother's Day

by IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, MSR, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1837420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow/pseuds/IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully 'celebrate' Mother's Day in 2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother's Day

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to my blog IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow, and was inspired by a darling on tumblr! :) Sorry it took me so long to remember to post it here. (I don't own txf, btw: Ugh, as if they are looking to sue me with my little writings lol)
> 
> As always, I deeply appreciate anyone who reads, comments or gives kudos for this work

2014

She jogs in her hospital shoes, her heels shed long ago. She’s been here for hours, working with the emergency room staff. Budget cuts have not been kind to the hospital and many of the skilled Doctors have left the hospital, or cut down their days in favor of a more lucrative position.

She should have left hours ago- she’s been here for 19 hours already, but a recent pile up involving a bus of  girl scouts returning from a Saturday trip and seven cars forces her to stay. How could she, of all people leave? She looks down quickly at her smartphone to see that Mulder has called her 7 times, all calls that she has missed. It’s not like him to call so much. Normally he calls once or twice and she worries for an instant.  _Is he alright? Where is he? Is he hurt? Does he need my help?_  She’s snapped from her thoughts when she hears a child crying for her mother. “M-Mommy…where’s mommy?”

She flips open the curtain and gives a quick look over the little girl, no older than 7. She has a long gash on her head that’s currently being cleaned and scraps on her hands and knees, but she’ll live. She crouches down to be eyelevel with the girl, her old knees protesting lightly. “Hi there, Alana. My name is Doctor Scully, and I’m here to help you.”

“Bu-but my Mommy.” Dr. Scully wants to tell the girl that all is well and her mother is on the way to meet her, but something tells her otherwise- like a sixth sense. Maybe they should have been calling her the ‘spooky’ one all along. She believes the time in this hospital and the many loses has reminded her to have hope-but be cautious in displaying it. She turns to the nurse whose face is contorted and pained. Scully’s eyes return to the girl, Alana, however young she is, detects the change in the room and begins to sob.

“I wanna see my Mommy” she cries “I made her a surprise.” The tears are flowing over her eyes in fat drops and sliding down her cheeks as she kicks and shouts. “I even wroted my name right this time!”

It’s nearly midnight when she’s relieved by another Doctor and able to go home. She’s not quite sure how she gets there, but she walks up the no-longer-rickety steps and slides her key in the door. She’s not hungry, despite having only a granola bar and coffee in the last 24 hours. She falls on the bed, only to realize that Mulder isn’t there. As her body is demanding sleep and her eyes begin to close she remembers that his car wasn’t in front of the house either. She wants to worry, wants to pull out her phone and dial his number but her fingers are numb and she can’t stop thinking of the little girl who would never see her mother again. How did that feel, she wondered, to have your mother cruelly ripped from you? Would the little girl look back on this and blame the Doctors, the drivers, the rain? Or would she cope and move on with her father, placing her mother’s photograph on a mantle and looking at it fondly whenever she did her homework or played the piano? She wonders about the surprise the little girl made for her mother. Had she really written ‘Alana’ correctly? Scully wonders if it was a special occasion or if children just gave their parents surprises on a normal basis. Before she can think too deeply into the macaroni-art or painted picture young Alana made her mother, sleep succumbs her.

———-

The sun is glistening through their blinds and curtains and she opens one eye first, and turns away from the light, only then opening the other. Once both eyes are open she comes to her senses and realizes that her coat and shoes have been removed and she is staring into Mulder’s sleeping face. As if on cue he opens his eyes, groggy and obviously sleep deprived. She remembers last night, and wonders where he had gone. Before she can form the words he answers.

“I was worried when you didn’t call so I drove to the hospital.”

She thinks of the hospital and back to the girl, Alana. She wonders more about the picture and her brow furrows, as if she’s forgetting something, when suddenly she remembers why the girl made her mother a picture, and practiced so diligently on writing her name correctly.

“Today is Mother’s Day,” she says flatly.

“It is.”

“I forgot.”

He sighs, and she’s not sure but he seems relieved. Did he think she ran away because, because-

“It’s okay to be sad, Scully,” he whispers, moving the hair from her face. “I miss him too.” She begins to cry, then. For the little girl that now sits motherless and for her baby boy, who is no longer a baby but will forever stay that way in her mind. The sobs slip from her body as he pulls her closer and whispers into her ear. He rubs her back and listens as she tells him about Alana and her mother. How the child looked into her eyes and begged her to bring her Mommy back. But soon, the conversation changes, and she’s talking about her first “Mother’s Day,” something Mulder waits for her to tell him each year. Shortly after they went on the run, he put the dates together, realizing that she spent her first Mother’s Day alone, without him or their son. He never asks, just waits for her to tell him. Some years they eat Chinese food and she laughs at the way he slurps his noodles. Some years he asks her about their son and he hears about his horribly smelly dirty diapers and the way he winked at Monica once and stole her heart. Other years he sits here and holds her, telling her that she is a  _real_  mother, and the best one he knows. This is one of those years, and he loves her wholly, hugging her body to his until she’s finished crying- she needs her time just as he needs his to mourn over the son he never knew.

“Mulder…” she sniffs “I wanted him so badly.”

“I know Scully.”

“Ca-Can you tell me about him?”

“Same as last time?” He asks

“He’s older now.”

A contented sigh slips from his chest. He is older. It’s been 6 years since they’ve played this ‘game,’ the last time being when Christian Feron’s mother told her she wasn’t a mother. That she couldn’t understand. This ‘game’ is a part of the unspoken deal they’ve devised over the years. No matter how hard she tries, she can never picture their son for herself- he always stays a baby in her eyes. But, for Mulder, it’s just the opposite. He can she a mussy-headed boy sliding into home base, or shoving a piece of chocolate cake in his mouth. What he can’t do is relive memories he doesn’t have. When he asks, which he does frequently, Scully will snuggle closer to him and press her ice-cold feet between his calves and tell him about their son. She will go on and on about his baby laugh and the way he smiled- she will smile radiantly as she tells him. It is easy for him to tell the story of a boy so loved, even if it is  _fictional._

As he’s holding her he remembers how far they’ve come, how their son is no longer 2, or 3, or 6, or 10 but now nearly 13.

“He’ll come home from school and he’s had a rotten day. The girl in his class doesn’t like him back and he thinks it’s because in the sunlight his hair looks red and the other boys shout ‘ginger’

She wrinkles her nose. “Sorry Scully, he couldn’t get  _all_ of my good genes.” She hits him on the chest lightly and he recoils in mock pain “But hey, look at how well Ron Weasly made out.” She laughs lightly then, and he’s happy. She deserves joy, especially today of all days.  So, he goes on with his story- “he’s nearly 13 now so he’s getting rowdy and angsty as teens get, but it’s Sunday and he remembers that it’s Mother’s Day.” He goes on with his story, telling her about their fictional sun and his freckled arms. His long limbs that take after Mulder’s side of the family and will make him perfect for the JV basketball team next year, even though his skills need polishing. Their son luckily has Scully’s cute nose, but unfortunately her skepticism as well. “His eyebrow game is strong, Scully,” He whispers, going on about how their son is a skeptic and never believes that the beef offered in school is actually beef or that they ‘mystery meat’ is really meat at all.

“Mulder, do you think he’s really like that?”

“I do.” He whispers in her ear. He changes the story now. “He’s 13 years old now and he’s known that he was adopted for a while now.” Her body tightens under his words. “He loves his mother dearly, but a piece of him still remembers being a baby, and being sung to by his mother. He doesn’t know why he members a song, or beautiful red hair, but he does- it comes to him in his dreams, or when he’s scared, like a guardian angel”

_Little Willy was a bullfrog, Was a good friend of mine_

“He’s snuck into his parent’s paperwork and finds an erased number at the top”

_“I- I wanted to have a keep him so badly, Mulder. I couldn’t let him go. I wrote my number on the first sheet of the paperwork, but the agent probably erased it.”_

“The writing is faint, but he sees it. He’s too afraid to call the number but he’s good with computers, so he searches it, soon finding the woman that he sees in his dreams. Dana Scully is a Doctor with medical breakthroughs and even has a house husband-” This earns him a hard slap.

“Mulder-”

“You’re still his Mother, Scully.” This catches her attention and she looks at him, her crystal blue eyes shining with tears. “And one day he will find his way back to us.”

“Do you want to hear about his unruly hair?”

“So he stopped looking like Skinner?” She smiles and continues about their son’s cowlick and he pulls her closer, whispering into her hair

“Happy Mother’s Day, Scully.”

She smiles


End file.
